Co-Parenting?
by GingerRoseLee
Summary: In the parenting of their two-year-old daughter it is difficult for Joss and a married John to not give in to strong, undeniable desires.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Inspired a little by "The Arrangement," a Careese small take on the complicated world of forbidden love. Don't know if I will do anything with this, what with other stories still needing chap updates with limited time, but I had a daydream during lunch break today, so there we go. Enjoy! :-)**

After a long day of play, dirty diapers, and finally sleep, John and Joss put Alyssa down in her crib. For a few moments, the two of them stood together and beamed in the presence of their little daughter, a toddler now, a big and bright little girl with her father's eyes and hair, who loved to run and laugh, and who loved her Mommy and Daddy very much. She had had a wonderful day with Daddy visiting, and when she finally sighed contentedly in her slumber, it was only then that her parents raised their heads and slowly looked at one another, the reality of their situation so much more visceral than that of just being parents to this precious child.

"Our beautiful girl," John whispered.

"Yes. She's the spit of you now, John. Before, it was harder to tell. But now? Just like her daddy."

"Beautiful, just like her mommy," he returned, his gaze now fixed on her fully admiringly.

Joss took a deep breath and smoothed back a tendril of her loosely curled dark hair away from her cheek. Dressed in butter soft jeans, a tee shirt and light sandals, she tried to play down her look in front of John. They had agreed to be friends, good friends, co-parents for their little girl, but nothing more. There would be goodwill and partnership between them. For Alyssa, that was the best possible thing.

Turning towards the door, Joss began to walk away from him, until she felt a strong pair of arms around her waist. She could feel his breathing, and his big, tall body was hard and warm against her backside. He, too, was dressed in jeans and one of his trademark white dress shirts, but with a light blue pullover covering it. Dashing, as always. Handsome, as always. Heartbreaking—as always.

She sighed and closed her eyes, half in surrender, but also with a pain in her heart that her head put there, to remind her what happened before, what usually happened, whenever they got too close with their child.

Whenever she forgot her good senses and just allowed her body to feel what his did to hers.

"John...mmm...no...don't...we shouldn't..." she whispered on a throaty sigh, as his arms snaked more forcefully around her body and he made his arousal known against her butt.

"Mmm, yes we should. We damn well should," he murmured against her hair.

"No...we...ummm...ooooh...we agreed we wouldn't anymore...John...aaah..."

"I know what we agreed. With someone else...I could hold to that agreement. But with you, I can't help it, Joss. You keep pulling me back...it just feels so good, so right. You and me, and our baby...just so right...and perfect."

"But...but...what about Zoe?" she managed to blurt out, now that he was kissing her neck and cheekbones, while rubbing tantalizing circles up and down her thigh and belly.

"Zoe..." he repeated softly. At that point, she could feel him slow his movements, until he buried his face in her hair. He was ice still for a few seconds, until he regained some of his composure, though he still did not let go of her. In fact, he nearly knocked her off balance with his steady clutch—but that moment had given her good senses time to recoup themselves.

"Yes, John. Zoe. You've cheated on her, with me, more than once now. Spent nights here Does she have any idea?"

"About you and me? No. At least not beyond the fact that I do come here to spend time with Alyssa, and that you and I have contact in that sense. But nothing else. If she has, she hasn't mentioned it."

"No," Joss said. "That's not her style."

John sighed heavily in her hair, the weight of the world expelled through that breath. "Then tell me, dammit," he said.

"Tell you what, John?"

"Tell me what to do with this. I've tried not to want, tried not to think about how you make me feel every time I'm around you. Every time I lie down and close my eyes to sleep and I see you. In my dreams. In my fantasies. I can't tell you how many fucking times I've nearly called your name out when I'm-"

At that moment, Joss disengaged herself from his grip. Yes, he still had sex with Zoe. Of course he did. He was her husband.

She didn't want to hear that shit. The very thought made her sick to her stomach.

"Joss..." he called after her quietly, so as not to wake their sleeping angel. She had made a whimper and turned her head from the direction it had been in when first laid down.

"John, you need to go," she finally said, turning to him near the baby's bedroom door. "Alyssa's asleep now, and so your free to leave, so...just...leave,"

John slowly sauntered over to her, a look of pain washing over his face. "Baby, don't. Don't send me away. Please..."

"John, no. No, we can't do this. I can't do this. You made your choice when you left me and the baby to marry her. And her, so fabulous as she thinks she is, never thinking that you and I never had anything serious enough, even with the baby, to consider this thing that we do. Now, go. Be married to her. You know I can't take this..."

"Sweetie, please," he said, now attempting to close the gulf between themselves. "Don't say that."

Joss backed out of the room, her hands raised up in a light defense. But John just kept coming, his large torso filling the doorway and then the hall as Joss continued to back up.

"John...go home...go home to your wife..."

"You are my wife, Joss," he said, his voice husky, his eyes glittering green-silver with fixated purpose.

She put her hands up further. "No...no...I'm not. You made your choice. And that wasn't me. Now, go!" She attempted to be forceful, but both she and John knew how much of a farce that was. He kept coming, his arms outstretched as he approached. As she had nowhere else to turn in reaching her closed bedroom door, her back against it, he had her cornered. And he wasted no time.

Cupping her face with both hands, John swooped in for a full and devastating kiss. She moaned in his mouth, which was nothing more than an open invitation to invasion, which he accepted with pure joy. Pretty soon, their bodies collided, then entwined, and before Joss knew it, she had her hands buried deep in his salt and pepper hair, while her arms pressed into his back. John, careening towards lost control, broke the kiss to bend down and lift her up.

The door of her bedroom swung open, and John took her to that place, that amazing, hot and heady place that only he could take her. It was the place where they'd made Alyssa, their beautiful Alyssa, and he'd taken her there so many blissful times they all began to run into one another to create a shimmering wall of love and sex.

"Oh, God...oh God...oh God..."

It was hard to know which of the lovers uttered that phrase at any given moment while their passion raged and settled until it raged again.

Three hours later, after she had been well and truly loved, John rose from her bed and body, visiting the bathroom to cover his tracks as best he could, and got dressed. While he was loathe to leave them, he knew he had to. Zoe, as unconventional as she was, still had a way about her in the kitchen, and a late dinner had been planned. He had to go. Joss, still lying naked in the bed, watched him as he performed his tasks. She was still too high from his loving to be sad. But that would come. It always did.

When he was done, he turned to her and climbed back on to the bed for a kiss. Her naked breasts, no longer giving their daughter milk, still bounced in fulsome splendor and his arousal returned near full force. But he knew he couldn't give in a second time. The kiss would have to do.

"Hey," he said softly, stroking her hair. "You okay?"

"What do I say every time this happens, John?"

"You say, 'yeah, I guess I am,'" he replied with humor he didn't really feel.

"Same answer," she said. The reality was beginning to kick in again.

"Okay. Look, I know this isn't ideal. But I told you once before that I couldn't lose you. And I can't."

"Can't you lose Zoe?"

"I can't do that either."

"Gee, you know, for a bad ass out in the streets, there are sure a lot of things you 'can't' do."

"Nope. Just those two. At least not now. You know why I had to marry Zoe. She's still in danger. And I had to make it real enough, or she wouldn't have gone for it. I couldn't protect her unless I was with her. But you also know damn well how I feel about you, lady."

"Yes, but she doesn't know. And you're still fucking her. What a life, huh, John?"

"Joss..."

"John, just go on. Please. Go. Call me next weekend for when you're going to pick up Alyssa. I'm tired. Let yourself out."

She turned her back to him under the covers. For the time-being that was it. They were done, discussion over. John paused for several moments, though, before finally rising off the bed, the weight of his body leaving was like a piece of her heart floating away.

"I am sorry, Joss. For everything. I'll make it right somehow. I promise."

She didn't answer. He left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

At the whirr of his car engine, Joss suddenly leaped from her bed to look out the window. She saw the black Cadillac he still drove merge into traffic on a flashing red light. The signal pulsed red over and over and Joss knew that sign. Yes, she did know it.

It was several seconds before she realized that the drops of moisture on her bare breasts came from her sad, clouded eyes, the red of the flashing light all she could see.

 **A/N: Again, just something that came to me at lunch. It can be fun to take a bit of the hero out of John Reese, as well as the moral fiber of Joss Carter. While I don't fully condemn them (since they have a child and since he's hitched to Zoe, even if for her own good), it is a messy thing, and there's a baby involved. Ah, well, I hope you all are doing well, and you enjoyed this one. Back soon. :-)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Decided to have a little more fun with this one. Enjoy!**

"Hello, John."

"Zoe," John replied as he walked through the short foyer of their modest but stylish New York apartment to plant a short kiss on her cheek. She was classically beautiful, her full locks loose about her shoulders. Dressed in a black silk blouse and matching slacks, she hardly painted the picture of domestic partner. She never would, he reckoned to himself—but his wife now she was, indeed.

"How is the baby?"

"She's fine. Getting bigger and more beautiful all the time."

"Oh, that's wonderful," Zoey replied, a slow smile spreading across her face at his words. "And Joss? How is the good detective? Not too tired out from the demands of two children and policing, is she? Or should I say policing two children?"

John stopped at the hall closet where he stood to remove his jacket. The sound of her name on Zoe's lips always rankled him, but for some reason, a surge of fury coursed through his heart just then. He almost didn't respond in kind. He almost swore, and almost growled at her to never say Joss' name again.

Instead, he continued to remove his jacket. "She's...well." It was time for a change of subject. "What's for dinner again?"

"Your favorite. I told you earlier, John. Pork loin and potatoes. It's been in the oven for hours now. Surprised you didn't notice when you walked in."

"Oh, right.. no, I did. It smells...delicious. You know, I _am_ starving. What wine do you want with that? Harold has excellent taste in his selections." He had to keep it moving. Else, he'd trash his own home at the injustice of it all.

Zoe studied him as he finished with his jacket and began slightly pacing the wooden floor leading to their kitchen, as if he'd dropped something and was now looking for it. She pulled at a tendril of her loose locks and tilted her head back slightly to continue studying him. She tried another tack.

" Yes. Yes, he is. So. What did you guys do today on your visit? Alyssa is a pretty lucky little girl to get such quality time with her daddy, isn't she?"

John stopped his pacing to focus his gaze on Zoe. A storm brewed behind his eyes. "It's not ideal. Not nearly enough."

"Yes, I'm sure you miss her quite a bit when you don't see her. But then, John, you do have other responsibilities, you know."

"What other responsibilities are there besides my daughter, Zoe?"

"Well, for starters, John, me. I'm your responsibility. Or have you forgotten that? I mean, I know I'm not exactly the knit-and-sit type, but we are in this marriage together, or so I thought."

He went over to the small bar they had in the kitchen and poured himself a drink. "You're a big girl, Zoe."

She dug her fingernails into her palms and flattened her lips into a thin line. "Yes. But then, so is Joss Carter. But you don't seem to be able to keep from running to her rescue, do you?"

John nearly choked on the sip of brandy he took. But he remained as cool as he could under the circumstances.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me," she said, her voice deepening with the gravity of her words.

"Joss is the mother of my child. But my only concern is Alyssa. You need to back off with this, Zoe."

His lies sounded plastic, even to his own ears.

"Why is that, John? Struck a nerve?"

"Because you're off base. Alyssa is my first priority."

"Why do I get the feeling that's not exactly the case, John?"

"I don't know, Zoe," he replied, the controlled fury in his voice barely noticeable.

"I might like to be that some day, you know," she replied.

"What?"

"Your first priority. Barring that, the 'mother of your child.' Do you think it's possible?"

 _No! No! Only Joss! This charade has gone on far enough!_ His brain and heart screamed in unison.

"Well," he replied, between sips, the ice clinking in the glass, "I suppose anything is possible, Zoe."

A pause. A long eternal pause that had really only lasted three seconds at best. "I think we should get started, then."

"On what, Zoe?" He didn't want to have this conversation. It was leading him to a place he knew was dark and foreboding, a trap of the greatest magnitude.

"I want a baby, John. A child, with my husband."

John looked down at the counter and placed his glass there slowly. The ice clinked in unison.

"What brought this on?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe my clock is ticking and I might like to try it out before it's all said and done. Does that sound so unreasonable?"

No. No, I guess not. How soon before dinner is ready?" he asked, again trying to keep the ball out of the net.

"Not long. Maybe half hour or so. Thought we could make the salad together."

John nodded in agreement. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want."

"Do you mean that, John?"

"Of course, Zoe. We can make...the salad together. Whatever you want."

On that note, he departed for their living room, where Zoe could hear the click of the remote and the drone of a sportscaster coming from the flatscreen.

She wasn't the crying type. No. Not even when the tears gushed and exploded inside her heart like an erupting mountain. That wasn't Zoe Morgan's style.

But it was her job to know things about people they didn't want known to the rest of the world. John would be no different. And neither would Joss Carter. No, especially not Joss Carter. She'd get to the bottom of it all. Before, there had been no reason. The detective was nobody, a fling John had had before he proposed to her. The fact that she'd turned up pregnant after their wedding was of no consequence. Women had flings and got pregnant every day. And John swore that that had been the end of it.

He'd played the role well. But then, maybe he hadn't played it well enough. And she had been foolish to let her guard down and fall. God, how hard she fell.

The first thing to do would be to pay a visit to the good detective. If there was anything she knew well, it was that Joss wasn't as quick to lie for John as he had been for himself.

"Roast will be ready soon, John," she called after a while. "I hope...I hope you like it."

 **A/N: Had a few minutes to myself on this Saturday afternoon, so there we are. John, not good. Just, not good. Zoe's not stupid. Hopefully, it's all worth it.**

 **Thanks, all, and be well.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I felt inspired to add a little more to this one. Still not sure where and how it will all go, but I got to thinking about it over the past few days, and decided to let rip. Zoe's inner POV is heavily featured.**

 **Thanks for the read, and do drop a line if you feel!**

 _A few days later._

"So, that's the latest threat to Ms. Morgan eliminated. Very good work, Mr. Reese, Ms. Shaw. On to the next challenge. Grayson Parker shouldn't be as thorny to root our as Senator Thompson was, but all the same, we'll need to keep him on a short leash when it comes to Mrs. Reese."

John shuddered at Harold's words. 'Mrs. Reese.' He did every time he heard that in relation to Zoe. He would often, as he just had, use her maiden name and her married name interchangebly. John was used to it by now, but still, whenever he heard that, his heart raced. However, for all intents and purposes, that's who she was. About as much as he was 'Mr. Reese,' anyway.

He let the shudder pass, and kept focus on the mission. At all times, he needed to keep the mission in focus. It was one of the few ways he had to cope with the situation as it was. And it helped him maintain something of a decent relationship with Zoe, even if his heart and body longed for someone else entirely. She needed their help, and after all the times she came to their rescue, he certainly wasn't going to let her past destroy her. He knew something about that. He would be there to see her through. And then? What?

"Senator Thompson's campaign manager is in custody, and as far as the esteemed senator goes, well, the feds will have a few questions, I'm sure. Yes, very good," John said, breaking from his reverie.

"I still don't see why we don't just let her in on all this, Harold," Shaw scoffed. "I mean, Zoe Morgan is no waffle. If all these enemies she has are trying to do her in, that means she's been at this business for a long time. She can handle herself. And we'd have to do a helluva lot less legwork on our own."

"No," John said, his thoughts now in a distant place as he stood against the library window, his lips hidden by the crook of his hand. "No, it's too dangerous. We've still got a number of figures to get after. Way more than even Zoe can take on; we knew that going in. Steadily working our way down."

"She'd try to, thinking the same, that she could handle it, could "fix" the situation, as it were." Harold said. "Not so much when it's her own neck on the line. She must continue to be kept in the dark so we can protect her."

John continued to stand at the window, where clouds gathered and bunched in the New York sky. He was out of his suit and dress shirt, instead opting for dark jeans and pullover.

"Like you just had to marry her, John?" Shaw sniggered, her attention half taken by the pistol she held in one hand, and the cleaning instrument she used in the other. "How is married life anyway?"

"It's...fine, Shaw. As well as could be expected," John answered curtly, not really wanting to go another round with his sociopathic team member.

"Oh, well, that says a lot. She must have the patience of a saint, though, gotta tell ya. Being hitched to you? And especially with the kid? Man, that's sacrifice," she scoffed with a puff of air as cleaning of the pistol continued.

"Everything's fine, Shaw. Zoe stays safe this way. And Alyssa has nothing to do with this."

At that point, Shaw stopped cleaning and looked directly at him, her eyes widening in mischief. That look always made John uneasy, and he returned her expression with guarded lids.

"Well, yeah, of course. Of course she has nothing to do with it. Since Joss Carter is Alyssa's mother, that cozy stepmommy routine ain't Zoe Morgan's to do, is it? I just bet you wouldn't let your kid within twenty feet of your wife. And she ain't exactly begging for the quality time with the little tyke either, I bet. How does she like that, John?"

"What are you talking about, Shaw?"

"Well, just how you have this other life and all with—"

"Ms. Shaw, I would think that was enough," Harold chimed in. "We will take this opportunity to enjoy the fact that our threat, in this instance, has been eliminated. Other...conversations can take place at another time, don't you agree?"

Shaw began to dig in further. One of her favorite pasttimes was to get on John's nerves, as it provided her endless reams of amusement.

But she stopped herself. Whether it was Harold's admonishment or her split-second decision to save some ammo for later, she decided not to go there. For the time being.

"I would break out the brandy and glasses," Harold continued, as he sat at his desk and typed, "but I'm afraid we have a new number to look into. Non-Ms. Morgan related."

"I'll go," John quickly piped in from the window, whilte turning away to get his camera gear and Sig. He was glad for the excuse to get out of the suddenly stultifying library. Glad for the excuse to get away from a still smirking Shaw.

##

"Perfect. Just back from the grocery. I'll give her a few minutes. Let her put the kid and the bags down."

Zoe sat parked about three good blocks away from Joss' brownstone. She had indeed been to the grocery, and while getting Alyssa out of her car seat, she giggled and laughed with the little girl, before putting her down carefully to grab the three shopping bags she had in tow.

Zoe swallowed back the lump in her throat in order to maintain her cool in what she'd come there to do. Alyssa was indeed John's child. The little girl's light brown skin and curly dark pigtails made for no mistaking that, sure. But it was her eyes that really did it. She had the same soulful green eyes, the ones that could look at a person and convey a million emotions that his words never would. No judge on the planet would deny him the connection to this child.

It waa an amazing trick of nature. And she wanted that. She wanted it more and more each day. Some physical, material link to John that her modest yet beautiful diamond wedding band didn't give her. What might a child that came from her and John look like? Would he or she still have his or her father's same magical green eyes, eyes that turned grey in one instance of anger or righteousness, near-blue in another, more tender one? Or would their baby inherit her dark eyes and mousy brown hair? Would he or she be strong, capable and compassionate, like Daddy? Or smart and resourceful like her?

Never having had the maternal yearning before, she found it surprisingly funny that her thoughts were now almost consumed by little else. She just hadn't met the right man before. And while she figured she had John pegged as the one who may have wanted the trappings of family and such on paper, but who in reality couldn't be pinned down in such a mundane fashion, having seen him—and not seen him—take on the role of fatherhood as intensely as he had made her change her mind a little. Oh, he was still the bad ass who got the perps and the job done, no doubt; but she found that she liked the side of him she saw when speaking of his child and her growth, was intrigued by all the baby clothes and princess dolls and self-assembly tricycle sets. She liked it—and was damned jealous of it, too.

If she were honest, which she was, she'd admit she was actually jealous of the child. Not a comforting feeling, and one that she'd say was completely the domain of women well and truly beneath her—but true, all the same.

All she could do was to do her best to maintain her still fairly new homelife with John, as the opportunity presented itself. Work was curtailed. While she still acted in her capacity as the go-to person for minimizing the mess of municpal and corporate malfeasance, word in the shadows was that Zoe Morgan was not nearly as open for business as she had been. And though his movements toward her had been sudden, she found herself saying yes. Yes to all of it. And it wasn't necessarily out of character for her. She had always found John attractive in a coolly amused sort of way. Could be fun being Mrs. John Reese, she'd thought. It certainly wouldn't be boring.

She had thrown herself into making their relationship work. Even the wedding she had compromised on, as he hadn't wanted anything elaborate. In another time and place, she would have rebuked him, just because she could, because it was all a game. But yes, she indeed found herself going along, and, in the end, he had been right. Smaller and low-key had been best.

For the most part, as far as she was concerned, that was just what was happening. The relationship was working. When they made love, he was fantastic, possibly the best lover she'd ever had. He knew well all of her sensual buttons, and just how precisely to tease and push them to send her soaring, even if he sometimes held back his own pleasures in service of hers. No, no problems there. In fact, had she just had the sex to go on, she'd say all was well, that they were extremely content, and that all the holding out from perfectly rich and perfectly connected eligible bachelors had been absolutely worth it.

But then, he had an annoying habit of mixed signals. When he was on with her, when she felt as if he was on with her, he was nothing short of slow-burn amazing. But when he wasn't? When he was distracted by...other matters, he was like a closed, metal door. There was no getting through, no passing go.

Lately, that had taken a turn for the often. Alyssa was usually the cause, though his work on the streets was still as vital as ever. He saw her as often as he could—which means he saw her mother, too—and each time he came back from one of those day-long excusrions, he was, different. He was cold. But she doubted that having been with his little girl all day would do that.

Actually, his having to leave her was more likely the cause. And did that cause also include Joss Carter? Could it possibly?

They had a child together. An accidental child in a moment of weakness and despair. She understood that. She'd even sent a gift of congratulations upon the baby's birth. There had been speculation that the child was only the beginning, but neither one of them would commit to that. At least that's what John had said. Skeptical as Zoe Morgan was, she decided to believe him. After all, unless they went full PDA, beyond their daughter, there was no way to prove otherwise.

A whilrwind romance—about as much as John was able to produce—was followed by the sedate wedding. He'd said the vows, cut the cake, wore the tux. He'd gone the whole nine. He'd played the handsome groom.

She would count her little excursion to Joss Carter's house as a rather urgent nod towards her former full-time profession. She admitted to herself that she had been rather lax on the job there, John's need to spend time and support his daughter a concession she was, as a big girl, willing to make in their marriage. After all, she knew how important having a father in a girl's life was.

For her own part, she'd make more of an effort in getting to know John's daughter better. That was what she was there for, she told herself. An olive branch of sorts. She and Joss had a connection because of John. And if she were to be in John's life, she had to make strides towards knowing and being a part of Alyssa's. Yes, that's what she'd do. John should be pleased with that. But it was hard to know sometimes. To hell with it, she thought.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced at her image in the rearview mirror before taking the keys and depositing them in her purse. Hair in place, makeup flawless, she pulled over yet another gift to present to Alyssa. She looked as she always had, the savvy and sure fixer, armed and ready with the information and resources that could make—or break—any successful suit-and-tie player on the New York scene.

"Okay, Detective" she said aloud. "You have to have put the groceries away by now. It's time we all had a little quality interaction."

##

The high powered telescope told no lies. Six blocks away from Joss' brownstone, partially obscured by the bodega at the corner, he sat and watched Zoe get out of the car, a parcel he guessed was for Alyssa, given the balloon patterned giftwrap in her hands. He sighed. What she trying to achieve?

He hoped, for her sake, she hadn't gone on a mission to harrass Joss. There'd be hell to pay then, protective efforts or not. After all the insanity she'd been through, mostly of his cause, the last thing Joss needed was to have Zoe's particular brand of malice thrown her way. It was his fault. And he didn't care if she were angry with him were she to learn the truth. He was responsible for eveything, not Joss. He—and the high-powered low lifes his wife had crossed one too many ways.

"Dammit, Zoe," he muttered to himself. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He kept the scope trained on the block. A cold dread washed down his back, however, when he realized that he hadn't been the only one watching Zoe make her way to Joss' place. An unmarked car sat in the dim shadow of the small park across from the brownstone. From that car arose two figures in suits and trench coats. One of them he recognized from the file photos Finch kept on Zoe's history.

Touching his earpiece, he radioed Shaw. "Sameen, where are you?"

"I'm checking out one of Zoe's other associates who may have a minor axe to grind. Why, where are you?"

"Nevermind that," John replied. "The new number, you gotta take it for me. Something's going on that requires my attention. I'll have Finch forward you all the information."

"Wait, Reese, what's happening?"

"Let's just say I have a few issues to iron out at the moment that can't wait. Go see about the number, Shaw."

Shaw sighed. "Copy that, Reese. But you owe me."

"I know I do. Goodbye, Shaw."

He tapped his piece and found his gun. Dear God, Joss and the baby. And Zoe. He could protect them. All of them. But if these men had been trailing Zoe, he wasn't sure how easy that would be. Tapping his ear piece again, he put in another call, this time to Lionel Fusco.

"Lionel, stand by. Something may be happening, may not be. But if the need for backup arises, I'm gonna need you."

Fusco piped in. "Wait, Wonderboy, where are you?"

John rushed, no time to explain. "I'll fill you in if the need arises. Be there."

"But hey, I got-" John cut off the portly detective before he could refuse, his eyes already on potential best and worst-case scenarios. His daughter was in there. Anything that happened other than a complete diffusion of the situation was a worst-case scenario as far as he was concerned.

"Dammit," he swore again. "Dammit!"

 **A/N: I think the initial thought for this story comes from the episode in S2 where John mock proposes to Zoe and the expression on her face at the time. She wasn't averse to the idea, and in fact, seemed absolutely charmed by the prospect, even if it was all about a number. And upon introducing herself to Joss as John's wife, well, that could spark a million speculations, couldn't it? Why would she need to go there if she knew it was all a ruse? I've always suspected that, if given the choice and opportunity, Zoe would jump at the chance to have had something more with John. He's amazing after all—and not even the cool customer that is Zoe Morgan would be able to resist that for the right reasons.**

 **Well, anyway, as per request, this be the update. Lots of internal stuff, and the conflict that two of our characters are going through. I hope it's something to sink the teeth—and the eyes—in, and I'll try to do a little more with this as a free hour presents itself. Thanks, and stay tuned!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Felt a bit inspired (and Missing Reese is a little blocked up again, go figure), so here's a little more of this one.**

The car sped away just as John was able to get a shot off the mirror of the passenger side window, his own vehicle screeching up alongside it. His hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, as he drove with one hand and shot with the other, the task of keeping his eyes on the road and on his two targets a test of true will. The henchmen, no doubt minions on the good senator's payroll, traded off their own shots as the getaway driver did his best not to become the city's latest driving fatality.

The commotion was loud enough and fast enough to get the attention of the neighborhood's residents, who were not used to car chases in their rather quiet and well-kept area. 911 was called; but by the time any of the bystanders had time to react, both cars were long gone, Finch's town car fitted with a new, untraceable license plate in the process.

In the end, however, the driver managed to get away. Not wanting to risk damaging a nearby school with the wreckage of the henchmen's vehicle had he maintained the pursuit, he let them. But he wasn't happy about it. They should be dead. They had come too close to his baby girl and to Joss for his comfort. And they did so following Zoe.

"Dammit," he swore once again. But it wasn't at Zoe this time. It was at himself. He hadn't sewn up this one air tight the way he should have. He let them on. They'd be back. And now, the very real possibility that he might not be able to protect Zoe the way he'd been able to up to that point was a real factor.

And then, there were Joss and Alyssa. They were his world. But now his job, his duty, could have put them in jeopardy, too. He only hoped that if the ladies were curious about all the commotion outside her door, they were merely witnesses behind a window shade. However, knowing that Joss still had the cop's instinct, she wouldn't have left it there. She'd have come to see what was going on in her neighborhood, after making sure that Alyssa and Zoe were safe. And she might have noticed him trading shots with the senator's men. That was an argument for another day, most surely.

He tapped his fingers atop the town car's hood as he stood contemplating his next move. If he could get the Machine to get a line on where the senator's men were headed, he could finish what had been started. Or he could head back to Joss' place to sit and keep watch.

To sit and listen in on their conversation. To find out exactly what game Zoe was playing at.

"Dammit!" he swore yet another time, as he sheathed his gun back into its holster. He couldn't seem to stop repeating himself. It was the only word that fit the monumental screw up this afternoon had become.

##

"Baby, it's okay. The bad people are all gone. It's okay." Joss sat cowered in the corner with her daughter, the little girl's cries now reduced to a light whimpering. Zoe, too, had crouched down in the same spot, her entry into Joss' home not long before the fireworks outside. For a moment, the three were joined in a mutual relationship of fear and bewilderment, the shots and screeching tires giving no time for Zoe to even announce the purpose of her visit. But within fifteen minutes, the shooting had stopped and the sounds of tires screeching could be heard off in the distance, until it could be heard no more. Cop instincts told Joss to keep all three of them on the floor for a bit longer, until she could assess the scene as much as possible before giving the all clear. The phone call to 911 turned out not to be necessary, as police units were already in pursuit. The few details she was able to give from the crouched position away from the window had been helpful, but not necessary, either.

Luckily, nothing had been shattered or broken, given how close all the action had been to the house. Taylor was at his father's place, which Joss was thankful for, given the situation, but whatever had been the cause of the shootout, it was indeed too close to her door.

Upon finally getting Alyssa to rights, she was then able to come back to earth a bit, and then realize that she had Zoe Morgan—Reese—standing in front of her, in her home. Reality made a place for itself then. The reality she had to get an answer for.

Zoe, for her own part, seemed, once the dust had settled, cool as a cucumber. That didn't surprise Joss. From the time she'd met her, in a moment when she had only pretended to be John's wife in order to help him and Finch bust up a suburban mob threat out on Staten Island, Zoe had always been unflappable. Not a hair out of place, not a ruffle of feathers, she'd always kept it together. Joss found herself admiring that about her. She'd have made a great detective. As it was, being a fixer paid more.

But then, it also may have made life a lot more dangerous. More than likely, the disturbance from a few moments prior had followed her there. But she was none the wiser for it. At least, not yet.

"Well, wasn't that interesting?" she breathed, after smoothing her dress and hair and standing to face Joss and the baby. The meticulously wrapped parcel she brought with her, a present for the baby, rested on the floor nearby.

"Yes. Yes, it was. I'll need to check in with the dispatcher reports to see what that was all about," Joss said.

Zoe waved nonchalantly. "Probably just some thug drug dealers in a bad way with each other. You know, Joss, you might want to talk to John about helping you get out of this neighborhood. He could. What are you in the market for, a two-bedroom flat? Oh, wait, you have Taylor as well, so there'd need to be more space than that. Or maybe he wouldn't mind sharing his room with a toddler?"

Joss bristled under Zoe's criticism. "Zoe, the neighborhood is fine. That's not something that happens here every day. In fact, that's the first time I can recall such a thing, and I've been here since Taylor was a little older than Alyssa. Can I ask you what you're doing here?"

"Oh, I was just in the area. Thought I'd drop by to see how you and the baby were faring. And to bring a gift for her. It's been some time since I've seen her, save for pictures on John's phone."

Joss allowed the sad smirk to come. _Scoping his phone? Zoe, that's not your style. Not when it comes to John._

 _Marriage. It had a way of making a woman do things she wouldn't normally do, in order to keep that marriage together. Women in fear of losing were like that._

"We're fine, as you can see," Joss replied, her tone slightly impatient as she put Alyssa down in her playpen. "If you wouldn't mind, I need to get supper started and then get my daughter her bath."

Zoe wrinkled her nose and paused a second before speaking. The silence, though brief, was deafening. Joss could feel a bead or two of sweat on her forehead.

"This won't take long. I wanted to see you, see Alyssa. See what John sees when he comes here."

Joss played it as cool as she could, knowing she was in the midst of a pro, who made her living knowing people and what their weaknesses were. However, inside, with every second Zoe stood in her living room, she was fighting a battle she didn't think she was equipped enough to win.

She raised her hands. "Well, this is it."

"Is it really? I find that surprising," she said, softly. Her words dripped with the accusation Joss knew she had every right to make. But it didn't come. She allowed her chest to rise in preparation for battle if the time came when it did.

"Yes, of course, Zoe. Sorry that we don't have Park Avenue or whatever, but it does us well, me and the kids."

Zoe raised her eyebrow, her gaze on Joss. "Yes. Yes, of course it does. You do keep it well, I must say, even with a little rug rat to contend with." She turned her gaze, to Joss' relief, to the mantelpiece behind her. There she found the photo gallery. A picture of Taylor in Cub Scouts was first in line. From there, photos of Alyssa as a newborn, Taylor again, with his Student of the Month Award for fourth grade science, photos of Joss with the two of them.

But she stopped when she reached the one of her with Taylor, Alyssa—and John. They were at a park setting, when Alyssa had just been a few days old, all smiles and sunshine. He looked like the happiest man on earth. His face glowed with vibrant life.

She had never seen a man so happy.

The three of _them_ had brought that out in him.

It couldn't be helped. The image did something to her, turned her inside out. She wasn't responsible for what happened next.

"Did you know that John and I are trying for a baby of our own now?"

Her hand played, there was no help for it now.

Joss had picked up a glass to bring to the kitchen, but now that glass was in danger. Her hand gripped the tumbler to keep from letting it go, her wooden slat floor no protection against the bombshell she had just heard. In comparison, the shoot out from several moments before was nothing.

"Uh...no. No, I didn't know that. Congratulations," she said, willing her voice not to break, not to falter as she took a quicker step to the kitchen island to put the glass on the counter. With her back to Zoe, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The voice of her daughter in the playpen was the segue she needed to return, while not losing face. Not with Zoe Morgan. Not over John. No, she wasn't going out like that.

"We're very excited, as I'm sure you can imagine. I've never seen myself as the diaper changing type, but I have to say, being married to John has definitely made me reconsider a lot of things. We can have our own pictures on the mantelpiece. Alyssa would be a part of that, of course."

"Well, John is...indeed a very loving and attentive father. Not just to Alyssa, but to Taylor as well. It's like he has two dad, which I've been grateful for. He really is a wonderful daddy."

"No need to tell me how wonderful he is, Joss," Zoe said, a touch of resentment in her tone, which she quickly surprised, her hair whipping just ever so faintly as she reacted to Joss' words.

"No. No, I guess I don't. Well, again, if you'll excuse me, I really do need to get supper started before Alyssa's bath. Thank you for the present. I'm sure whatever it is, she'll love it."

"You're welcome, Joss. It was good seeing you. Take care of yourself—and those two gorgeous kids you have. I may need to rely on you for some pointers."

As they walked to the door for Zoe's exit, Joss slowly pulled on the door jamb.

"You too, Zoe. Take care of yourself. I hope—I hope the family planning works out."

"Yes, well...good afternoon, Joss."

"Good afternoon, Zoe."

##

Zoe sat in her car outside Joss' house yet again, much as she had earlier. The danger of the shootout had long passed, and the street resumed as if nothing had ever transpired in that fashion, just as Joss had said. But she sat there, alternating between the scene on the street and the visibility of Joss' window. Pretty soon, however, her attention was fully on Joss' place, as she noticed the detective get a rather spirited phone call. She could only venture to guess who it was from.

An earpiece would have been ideal. But then, she didn't really need to hear anything. Just watching the woman who had John's child and his history—who had his happiness, way more of it than she should have—was enough. To hear would have been the death of her.

Back at the brownstone, Joss had indeed picked up the call from John. He was ten shades of frantic, breathless, about her and the baby's safety, as well as Zoe's welfare.

"Hey, Joss. Are you okay, honey? Our little girl? Everything all right?"

"Hey. Yeah, we're fine, John. Were you involved in that earlier? What was that all about?"

"Zoe. They followed her there, to your place. Is she okay? I know she's left you."

"Yes, yes, we're all fine. We crouched low, from the windows. Alyssa was plenty scared, though."

"I'll bet she was, my poor angel. Thank God you're okay."

Joss grinned softly, in spite of everything that had happened. "It would take more than a few bullets and guys driving cars like maniacs to ruffle these feathers."

John didn't return the humor.

"Joss, look, I'm sorry about all this. I didn't know she was planning on coming to see you for any reason. The organization trailing her this time must have some kind of tracker on her, or either her tail is just that good. I'll have to check it out. Again, I'm so sorry you guys got caught up in that. Good that Taylor's at Paul's."

"Yes, well, I'm a big girl, I can handle a few bullets, like I said. But John, we can't have this at our house. Zoe's safety is your responsibility, not mine. You need to keep better tabs on her. Especially after what I learned today."

"Oh? What was that?" he asked.

"Your family is expanding? Zoe says you're trying to have a baby of your own."

"What? Wait, wait, Joss, no. Tell me exactly, what did she say?" Joss could hear the nuclear bombs going off in his head over the line. Somehow she figured that John may not have been let in on these parenting plans—or at least, if he had, he hadn't fully agreed to them.

"Uh huh. She says you two are trying for a baby. Gotta hand it to you. When you say you're married, you mean it. At least as far as she's concerned. Of course, she only suspects that your feelings are divided. But then, you're a good man, a good husband, aren't you? She'll believe in you because you'll do the right thing by her, won't you, John?"

Her tone was not angry. In fact, she was calm. As calm as could be—even if her world was coming apart.

"Joss, don't-"

"No, John, _you_ don't. God, I can't believe I let it get this far. This isn't me. This had never been me. Not until you, John. Not until you."

A pause. A long one. Then, an exhalation.

"Joss. I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of it. That you had to be caught in the crosshairs of this. That all I ever seem to do is make you unhappy. That's not what I want. You know that, don't you?"

"I don't know, John. I have two kids to raise. That I know. And I really think it's time we let this go."

"Our little girl needs me. She needs both of us, as her parents."

"Yes, she does. But you and I, we can't keep this up. Your _wife_ wants you. Maybe she needs you too. Whether or not you believe it a real marriage, you're obviously doing your bit to make her think it is. And I don't want to be a party to this anymore. I...I love you, but-"

"No, Joss. Listen to me, we're close, baby. We're close to getting all the threats to Zoe's life out of the way. She has a black book of enemies a mile deep, but we're getting there."

"And then, John?"

"And then, I'll leave her, sweetie. And come home to you and the kids. Where I belong. Can you just hold on a little longer? Please!" His teeth gritted themselves as he spit out that last plead, his voice near whisper soft.

"Do you think she'll go for that, John?"

"She'll have to."

"If I were her, I wouldn't."

"Well, Jesus, Joss, you seem to not be having much problem in doing it now, do you?"

"John, that's not fair. Are you thinking about me in this? Or just what you want?"

"Of course, I am, honey. I want what's best for all of us. Including Zoe."

"Well, maybe what's best for me...isn't you, John."

"Joss, yes I am. And you're what's best for me. You always have been. From that first time in the precinct, when I had no hope. You gave me hope. You changed me. Come on."

"That may be, John. But change is constant. If there's one thing in life I know, it's that."

"What are you saying, sweetheart?"

"I'm saying, go home and make a child with your wife. Give her what she wants. And from now on, we keep our hands and bodies to ourselves."

Another pause.

"Can you do that? Can you go for so long without my touching you? Loving you? Because I don't know if I can without you. Come on, baby..."

"We'll have to. Just the way it will have to be. It's Alyssa's dinnertime now, John. I gotta go."

"Joss-"

"Goodbye, John. I'll give her a kiss from her daddy."

"This isn't over, Joss. Not by a long shot."

"I love you."

She disconnected the call. And the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding seemed to leave her body slowly, like a wave cascading over sand. But she had no time to think about the monumental thing she'd just done. Her baby babbled and cried in hunger. It was indeed dinnertime for baby Alyssa.

"Come on, love," she said, going over to pick her up. "Daddy wanted me to give you a kiss."

"Wa' daddy?" the child asked.

Upon bestowing John's wish on her child's temple, Joss held the baby close to her bosom. For a moment, she just stood there, holding the child, her tears full and fat, held back during the call, now given full reign to spill.

She had done the right thing. She had knew it. But her heart was broken, as surely as if it had been John to end it all.

Outside, Zoe closed her eyes upon what she believed she'd just witnessed. A decision of some kind had been made. Perhaps it was to open up space, to make room for her. Perhaps.

She didn't know whether to be angry at Joss' influence on John, and what that might have meant beyond Alyssa's existence, or to be grateful to her for willingly taking a step back from John. To give her a chance to love him. And he, to love her.

She wasn't the crying type. Not Zoe Morgan. But she sat there, her eyes closed in relief, her spirit alight.

On to the future, she thought. On to the future with John. Baby steps. Indeed.

 **A/N: If John wasn't sexin' Zoe up as he has been Joss, she'd have much less of a case for thinking she had a chance for more with him. But he knows Zoe well enough that a marriage of convenience wouldn't work for her, and he's determined to keep her alive. For those of you who don't like this John Reese, I agree, he's a bit of a bastard. But again, I like messing around with that sometimes. After all, part of the lore of POI is the fact that he, as are all the characters save for Carter perhaps, are deeply flawed. John is the poster child for the flawed character. Here, his flaws are a bit more conventional, but he comes at it from a good place (or he thinks he does). Poor Zoe. She knows for sure that they aren't just parenting Alyssa, but part of her keeping cool is to go with the program a little. But if she finds out why John married her, it may not go well. We'll see.**

 **Hope you enjoyed. Happy summer, everyone.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Had some down time, had a look over my incomplete stories, decided to revisit Co Parenting. Joss has made a decision to cool things with John, in light of his marriage, her guilt, and her conversation with Zoe. John, of course, is not happy—but won't do what he should to make things right because he thinks that'd be too dangerous for the wife he's not in love with. Life sure is complicated.**

 **Enjoy, everyone, and as usual, thanks for reading!**

"Everything's looking good, Zoe," Dr. Owens, Zoe's trusted OB-GYN, said at the culmination of her exam.

"So?" Zoe asked, a hesitant smile on her face.

"So, it's looking like you should be all set on the baby making path. You and your husband, of course. Your levels are on point, there are still plenty of healthy eggs to be fertilzed, you're in great shape. I don't see why you couldn't get pregnant any time now."

"Well," Zoe said on a sigh. "That is good news to hear, Doc Owens. Very, very good news."

"Yes, it's very exciting. Your husband will be thrilled, no doubt."

Zoe turned her back to Dr. Owens as she finished dressing, and stared off towards the wall.

"Yes," she said with a flit of her hair and a slight uptwist of her lips. "Yes, I'm sure he will be."

##

"So Carter. You sure this is an opportunity that you really want to take on?" Agent Donnelly pushed a hot and piping cup of coffee towards Joss as they sat together in the Lyric Diner. She smiled as the cup of java he'd ordered reached her nostrils.

"Yeah. I think so, Donnelly. I've been doing a lot of thinking and this move to the FBI regionals may indeed be what I need in my life right now. A change of scenery, you know."

"Well, you had done all there was to do in your role at the 8th. It is possible to outgrow the daily grind of working street homicide."

"Yeah, and the perks in Fed are much nicer," she said with a grin. "Don't think I didn't consider that. Especially now with two kids to raise, on my own."

Donnelly frowned. "Big responsibility. You okay?"

"Mmm hmm. Sure. I'm fine. I'm just ready to get back into the game, you know? Don't get me wrong; I've been away, raising my daughter, reconnecting with my son, and I've loved that, every minute. But I'm a cop, Donnelly. It's what I do. And I'd like to get back to that, to helping people."

"But you don't want to do that in New York, anymore," Donnelly said, finishing her thought.

"Got me," Joss said quietly, before looking down at the clouds made by the hot coffee.

"Anything you want to share, Carter?" Donnelly asked, ever the investigator.

"I have my reasons, Donnelly. Let's just leave it at that."

Joss looked down into her coffee. It was for the best. She and her children needed a new start, and she needed to be as far away from John as possible. It was the only way she could keep her promise not to touch him ever again. The move was necessary.

And besides that, she indeed wanted to get back to helping people through the law. It had been her calling, and it would provide balance to a life that, up to that point, had been anything but balanced.

"Well, as you know, we'd love to have you. Your rep even with the FBI is pretty damn impressive. And I gotta tell you, it'd be a real coup for me to get you on our team."

"Well then, where do I sign?"

Donnelly studied her face for a few seconds before replying, the deep set brown eyes daring to probe her mind, but then, as quickly as he dared, he thought better of it and let it go with a hearty grin.

Extending his hand, he leaned back and let go of a rather relieved sigh. "Jocelyn Carter, welcome to the FBI."

##

John paced the floors of the library liked a caged animal. The real animal, Bear, cowered in the corner on his dog bed, something telling him that his master was not interested in their usual games of fetch at that moment.

Finch, who was diligently perched at his computer screens pushed the frames of his glasses up on his nose and licked his lips as John passed him for what seemed the millionth time.

"Mr. Reese, may I offer some advice?"

"Will I want to hear it, Finch?"

"Perhaps not. But-"

"Well then, maybe you don't want to offer it to me," John growled quietly, his pacing now stopped in front of the large library window, the place he always stopped when something weighed upon his mind.

Finch ignored his quip. "Be that as it may, Mr. Reese, I think I'll proceed. The current situation you find yourself in with Detective Carter-"

"Is no concern of yours, Harold," John interrupted once more.

"-actually, I was going to say, it's probably for the best."

John leaned into his knuckles on the pane. His eyebrows lifted, but he didn't turn to look at Finch. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, John, you didn't really think you and Detective Carter could keep this relationship going, did you? Knowing what's at stake with Mrs. Reese-"

"Harold," John sighed, trying not to grit his teeth at the title Finch insisted on giving Zoe, "can we not do this now?"

"I think it needs to be done now," Finch said quietly, but clearly enough for John to hear. "The situation is impossible, Mr. Reese. You're making your job harder in protecting your wife. That has to be your priority."

"My daughter is my priority, Finch. And Joss is her mother."

"Yes, very true, young Alyssa is your priority. But, much as Detective Carter has said, she is off limits. Need I remind you that you are a married man, John?"

"No, Finch," John said, grinding his teeth, his glassy eyes still fixed on the street below. "You don't have to remind me."

"It's not ideal, John. I understand that. You love Detective Carter. You'd do anything to have the family, the life with her, you've dreamed of for years. Perhaps if you weren't built the way you are, we wouldn't be talking about this. You're made for heroism, John. Self-sacrifice. You need to help people almost as much as you need to have Joss Carter. And you will not abandon Ms. Morgan while she's in danger. And that's why we are talking about it."

"What happens after, Finch? After, when we've eliminated all the threats? What happens then?"

"Well, Finch sighed before answering, "I suppose you'll have a big decision to make, Mr. Reese. But then, you'll have to cross that bridge when you come to it. Hopefully, that's an option for us—and Ms. Morgan. As of yet, however, that's not the case. An awful lot of people want to see her dead."

John looked away from the window finally, and walked over instead to the glass board that had a number of persons of interest posted, some involved with Zoe's case, others the usual types of suspects with ties to the Russians, Elias, and holdouts from the days of HR.

"Joss wants to relocate. Take the kids to Langley. A job with Donnelly and the FBI field office. I won't see my little girl, Harold. She needs me. I need her, Harold."

"Yes, John. I can imagine how difficult this will be for you. But you aren't the one to sacrifice the mission for personal entanglements. Ms. Morgan needs your help, or she might surely meet a terrible fate. Your feelings for her being what they are, whatever they are, you aren't about to forget that."

"No. After everything, if something happened to Zoe, I wouldn't forgive myself. She doesn't deserve that. But I'm losing my family here. And that includes Joss. Please don't ask me to submerge what that means to me."

"I'm not," Harold responded. "But your wife—and she is your wife—probably needs you to. And the drive to protect her more than likely does as well."

Behind him, John heard Harold's waddling limp come up closer.

"Here," he said, handing him a print out of information related to separate number. "Ms. Shaw is following up a lead on Burton Smith, so a run-of-the-mill number might do you some good."

"Shakedown at a service station in Queens? Who are the players?"

"It's all there, Mr. Reese. Provided we don't find any links to some of our friends in HR, this one should be fairly open and shut."

"Thanks, Finch," John nodded, the glassiness in his eyes still apparent.

##

The number was a clean job, indeed. Within an hour or so, John had been able to thrwart the robbery of the servicce station, bag the three perps involved, and deposit them on the steps of the nearest police department. From there, he headed home.

He thought about taking the detour into Brooklyn to see Joss. Even if that meant sitting outside across the street watching the building for a little while. He'd know where she was at least, where Alyssa and Taylor were, and that they were safe. He'd be close to Joss at least. In some small way, he'd be close to her.

He could have insisted that she not leave New York, insisted that she not take their baby with her. But he knew he had no leg to stand on. He was legally dead. And he wasn't listed on his baby's birth certificate. He hadn't even been able to be there for the birth, though, just as then, he was nearby, keeping vigil, keeping watch just across from the hospital where Joss had been admitted to deliver their miracle into the world.

He knew that she was right about them having time apart. He understood that their sleeping together was risky and inappropriate on a number of levels. He also knew she was right about the fact that distance would have been the only thing that would have kept them from seeing one another. Their passion was out of control, the love they had for one another heady and hot, all-consuming. In order for him to do his duty, and in order for her to face herself in the mirror, they needed to stop.

Langley would make sure of that. The demands of the FBI would, too.

Her mother had agreed to come with her, at least in part, in order to help with the kids. He was glad of that. If he couldn't be the stability in Alyssa's life—and if this was what Joss needed to get her own life in order—better that her mom be there. Joss wouldn't be so alone then. And his little girl and her brother would be looked after.

Instead of heading her way, he let the signals lead him back down towards his apartment. Zoe. Zoe would be there, not Joss. He woke in the same bed with her, took his meals with her, but not much else.

There was no sex. At least, not in the last while. Oddly enough, the fact that things had cooled with Joss made it so that he wasn't willing to allow that part of their marriage to continue. Lately, he hadn't had to even entertain the notion, as he found ways to remain at the library or out in the streets on her behalf to avoid the stare, the sly yet pleading stare she'd fix on him over their breakfasts in front of the stained glass window in their tiny yet tastefully decorated kitchen. Working towards keeping her safe, as well as the other needs New York threw their way, made it easy to avoid the intimacy. Since she knew the extent of his work that she knew, and that he had always been dedicated to the hero's life, she didn't push too hard.

Which wasn't to say she didn't push, in her own way.

The key in the lock, he found her there, on their blue leather settee, her billowy hair loose about her shoulders, her body clad in a sheer pink teddy, which left little to the imagination. He allowed himself to look, as she would expect him to, and when she noticed his gaze upon her body, she smiled slightly, the squint of the self-assured lady with a touch of the predator in her eyes.

The flat screen was on, but there was no picture, only the audio function, from which smooth, romantic jazz played. John looked down at his shoes for a second before disappearing into their bedroom to remove his Man in the Suit gear, reemerging after a few moments in a pair of jeans and dark tee shirt.

"Good evening, John," she said, speaking first.

"Good evening, Zoe," he replied in kind, busying himself with brushing away an imaginary piece of dust from the old phone table.

"I trust New York is safe from the criminal element for one more night?"

"I do my best, Zoe."

"Yes, I know you do. Hungry?"

"I could eat, yes. How about you?"

"Oh, I already ate. I've grown accustomed to having early meals without you. But there's paella in the oven. I took the liberty of ordering."

"Fine. That's fine, Zoe." John walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. When he returned, he put the cards on the table.

"What's this?"

"What?"

"Why are you dressed like that, Zoe?"

"You like it? Just a little something I picked up from _Le Tigre_ the other day." She made something of a slight show of her legs, long and sleek in the teddy.

"It's very...nice, Zoe,"

At his seeming hesitance to offer more than "nice," she rose from the settee and closed the distance between them. John held the glass of water in his hand and followed her movements towards him.

A twinge of anxiety twisted itself in his guts. All he could think of was Joss. Had she walked towards him wearing that, he'd have made short work of it, the threads a heap of fabric on the floor.

Now all he could do was set his mouth in a thin, feignt grimace.

"Do you know, I went to see the doctor today," she purred, her arms slowly sliding around his neck, her nipples making contact with his tee shirt. He looked past her shoulder and noticed the bottle of wine and two glasses on the small nightstand table near the settee.

"Yes, I know. You okay?"

"Perfect. In fact, doc says...we're in a good place to...increase the population of our home...all things checked out...and yes, we could."

John listened to her attempt. And then, he pulled himself out of her embrace. The glass of water remained in his hand as he took her place on the settee.

Zoe noticed his evasion—but she was nothing if not persistent.

"John?"

"Yeah," he answered curtly, the ice clinking in the glass.

"That wasn't quite the reaction I was expecting."

"Case I worked on was involved, Zoe. Very tired."

"Tired," she repeated, the dead pan in her voice sharp despite the low tone. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"I don't know, Zoe. All the same, it's true."

"I wonder. Or could it be that I don't look like the one you really want? Not really much I can do about that, I'm afraid."

John sat and stared ahead. The glass clinked ice once he took another sip. She tried another angle.

"My doctor says we can try, John."

"What did you mean by that, Zoe?" he asked, his voice betraying little emotion, though his mind and heart were a riot of them.

"Mean by what, John? 'We can try' is pretty straightforward, no? Or do I need to use other means to spell it out?" She leaned into his neck and laid light kisses on his pulse point before he slipped out of her embrace once again.

"No, not that. The other thing. About who it is I really want. What's that about?"

"Well, your little Alyssa doesn't have to be the only child you have. Give her a little sister, why don't you? That might be nice for her. I can help with that..."

"Zoe, I don't think...I don't think that's a good idea."

Zoe pulled back on her effort, the color beginning to drain from her face. "Why not, John? You think a baby with your wife wouldn't be good enough? The irony. At least you'd be married to her mother this time. You could actually give our kid your name."

"Zoe, don't do this-"

"What am I doing, John? Save for trying to make this marriage you've got me in with you to work?"

"You think a child would do that?"

"Well, hell, it certainly doesn't seem like it would hurt. I know how you are about kids. I know how you are about Alyssa. Maybe, I don't know, I'd like just a little bit of that for a child of ours, John! Maybe I'd like just a little bit of that...for me."

Her words tore at him. He hated this. Hated what it did to her. Zoe was a good woman who didn't deserve the deceit. And she obviously was way more invested in the idea of them than even he'd realized.

The iron lady had a heart. Had feelings. Had feelings for him.

He had no answers. He just knew he couldn't go through with it. Out of love and loyalty to the woman he ached for, he couldn't. Not anymore.

"I'm sorry, Zoe. I really am."

"John, I-"

He didn't wait. Putting the glass on the coffee table, he took his leave of her and moved toward their shared den.

"John!"

"I'm sorry, Zoe," he repeated.

Standing there, in her pink teddy, her face was a fix of emotions as she watched him go, his broad back filling the doorway before the door shut behind him. The minute that passed was a million years before she found a brandy goblet at the small bar and filled it to almost the brim. With a flick of her hair, she swore at the den before taking a sip and then another, until the liquid was gone, warming her belly in a way she knew John would not that night. No, not that night.

##

He found her, passed out on the settee, her hair obscuring her face. Her body was still exposed to his gaze in the teddy, and still, it did nothing for him. But the pang of regret was harder to ignore.

"Come on, Zoe," he murmured. "Come on, let's get to bed."

"Mmmm..." she responded.

It wasn't what she'd intended. But he'd stay with her. In their bed, as they had been doing. But he couldn't see her as she wanted him to. He only wanted Joss. He longed for Joss. For her and their baby girl. There was no help for it.

She lie limply, helplessly in his arms as he carried her. And as he tucked her in, he spied the recliner in the corner. Better a place for him to sleep than the floor, he surmised.

 **A/N: A lovestruck Zoe. An conflicted yet obligated John. And Joss is determined to try and make a new life for her family, one that doesn't include the drama of being this man's mistress. What a mess. The tide will have to turn at some point.**

 **Thanks for reading. Happy holiday season to you all!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: It's been a while, but here we are, back with another chapter of Co Parenting. Zoe hasn't been lucky so far in her attempts to get John in on the baby making business. He's still committed to seeing her safe, but anything else, now that Joss has made the decision that she has, is out of the question. Speaking of Joss, she's got a lot of preparations to make in order to uproot herself and her children for a new life in Virginia. Though her heart is broken, she's prepared to do so—and she wants to do that as soon as possible.**

 **Cheers to everyone who continues to read. No ownership of these characters, and pardon the typos.**

"Ma, what does our new house even look like?" Taylor asked over breakfast that morning. It was a lazy, rainy Saturday, and it was one of the rare times when he wasn't trying to run out the door to a study group or a basketball practice. The pancakes, bacon, and eggs his mother had made for them all had been worth the time spent.

Joss sighed as she poured syrup over her pancakes. Alyssa sat in her high chair next to her mommy, her own pancake cut into small pieces for easier eating. She was busy going at it with her tiny fingers.

"Well T, I don't rightly know yet. Next week, you two are going with Grandma for a few days so I can fly down to Langley for a debriefing, department trainings, a tour of the facilities, then paperwork, and then, yes, house hunting. I'll have a look at the schools once I've gotten all that out of the way. Definitely a lot to get done, that's for sure."

"Do I have to leave school, Ma? I mean, we don't know anyone in Langley. And all my friends are here. Why do we have to move?"

"Taylor, we talked about this. We do have Aunt Maddie and Uncle Chester in Alexandria, so that's who we know. Besides, you'll stay here with your grandmother until school is out for the year. And then, I'll transfer you to a school in Virginia, one that we both agree on after we've checked them out."

Taylor shook his head. "I guess, Ma. I mean, it's not like I have a say in this. I don't have a say in anything about this."

Joss sighed and looked at her boy, a crease of concern on her brow. "Taylor, look, I know this is not ideal. And it's not fair to you in some ways. But I—I really think we need this. We need this new start."

"You mean, _you_ need it, Ma." Taylor snorted softly and rolled his eyes, his gaze now lowered and averted from Joss towards the salt and pepper shakers on the table.

Her son was getting older—and too smart for his own good.

"Well, yes. Yes, I guess I do."

"Why? Because of John? I know he's got another lady on the side, Ma."

Her eyes widened at her son's words, taken aback by his remark; however, she couldn't help but grin to herself, the irony of his statement unknown to her oldest baby. "Is that what you think?"

"Come on, Ma. I'm not a little kid anymore. I know things. That's why John never stays with us, why he doesn't live with us. And why he can't marry you. He can't be a real dad to Alyssa, a real step-dad to me, like he should be. His lady would freak. I know."

She sighed again, regarding her grown son before touching her fingertips to his curly hair.

"Yeah, I bet you do. You know more than you ought to. But no," she lied. "this isn't about John. And I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't have you kids around something like that." Indeed. And John had no say in _that_ , despite what he-what they both-wanted.

"Well then, why? Why do we have to leave? Can't we have a 'new start' here?"

He wouldn't let up. But then, he was the son of an Army interrogator-turned-lawyer-turned cop. What else could she expect of her baby?

"That would defeat the purpose, Taylor. New York is wonderful in its way, and it will always be our home, but sometimes—sometimes you still have to raise stakes and plant them somewhere else. Besides, this is a great opportunity. More money for us, me with a more senior position in the FBI than I would have gotten as a cop at the 8th. And it'll be a lot less dangerous than my homicide job ever was. This is a win for all of us, Taylor. You'll see."

He took a sip of his orange juice. "Well, what about Alyssa? Is she ever going to see John again? She really loves him, and I know he loves her, even if he is a two-timing scum cat."

"Taylor, stop. John is Alyssa's daddy. And she picks up words faster than a tornado; you know that, so watch it," she gently warned him.

Alyssa then decided to ask for a little syrup for her pancakes. It was a good time for an interruption.

"Here you go, baby. Not too much. Use your spoon, Alyssa, the way Mommy taught you."

Alyssa slowly picked up her small spoon and proceeded to try for the pancakes that way, instead of getting more of the sticky syrup on her hands. It was a good thing Joss had rolled up her pajama sleeves.

"I got it, Ma," Taylor said quietly, going to the counter for the baby wipes. He took the liberty of cleaning his sister's fingers, so the spoon wouldn't stick to them.

That was Taylor. Since Alyssa was born, he had taken on full big brother duty, to which Joss was grateful beyond measure. Between him, her mother, and John, Alyssa had all the love and care a toddler could ever need.

But as his mother, she knew that it was her job to protect and care for him as well. He was still a child himself, and a lot of changes had come into his life over the past few years that might have been too much for him to deal with, without her maintaining that protective cover over him, even though he was sprinting to manhood, it seemed, faster than she could keep up with him.

When he was done wiping Alyssa's hands, he turned to Joss. "Ma?"

"Yes, baby," she answered, her eyes downcast on the table where the breakfast dishes lay in various places.

"I'll go to Virginia with you and Alyssa. But just for the two years. When I go to college...I want to come back here. To New York. Home. Okay?"

She rose to meet him then, her arms opening and then enclosing him in the tightest hug she could muster. "Okay. Fair enough, baby. Fair enough. I love you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, Ma. I love you too."

"We're gonna be okay, you know, just the three of us. It'll all work out. You'll see."

"Sure, Ma. Of course."

Little Alyssa put her spoon down to self-mimic what she witnessed, that unyielding love between her mother and her brother, by wrapping her own arms around her middle and squeezing tight. Her giggles of joy proved most infectious. She was good for that. A natural light to beat against uncertainty, and darkness.

##

John walked down the aisles of dolls in Playtown Toys and, as they often did, his eyes widened in disbelief. How many brands of teddy bear did one toy store need? Especially when one labeled teddy looked and did the same thing that another one did? The baby doll section, and further along, the trike aisle were just as crazy. He didn't remember it being this expansive at the toy store when he was a boy. Sure, the ones in his area carried their share—but it wasn't so hard to make a decision about what to get. The TV commercials told the kids all they needed to know about what was hot and what wasn't. All that was left to do was to cajole his mother into getting it for him.

He sighed and mirthfully shook his head. He had just a little time to get in there and get his baby something nice and appropriate, so that he could bring it to her and make her smile. She would bounce up and down in joy at seeing Daddy come through the door with a new present, just for her. The hugs and kisses he'd give and receive from his daughter would be life for him, and he'd take them into his heart forever. They were the moments he lived for.

He and Joss had worked out a deal for spending time with Alyssa on this occasion: He would have an overnight, with him taking on some of the parenting duty that she mostly did, which would then allow Joss some time for herself. Taylor would be home as well, but he'd more than likely just watch TV or spend time in his room, so it would be John and Alyssa for the duration. Such a move was not unusual for them, but this time was even more precious than previous overnights, since Joss' impending move to Langley was indeed a done deal. Several messages, phone calls, and conversations over cold coffee had done nothing to change her mind. But that was Joss. Once she got the notion, she didn't let go of it. He'd always admired her for that toughness. But now, it broke his heart.

He wanted to see her, too. He'd skipped the past two weekly visits, opting for face time on his computer instead, a combination of work and a follow up on the potential resurgence of a threat against Zoe being the reasons. But then, that wasn't it alone. He also had to have some space. They all did. He needed a chance to see what it would be like to be away from them. He had to prepare himself. Soon, he'd have no choice.

Joss, of course, for her part never restricted John from his daughter's life—though she could have—and the move to FBI territory would not change that, in theory. She had already told him that he was more than welcome to come and see the baby whenever he got the chance, and that it would also be possible, if Zoe were willing, to have Alyssa come and stay with her father once she was settled in a new home and preschool. That was a delicate proposition to make, and Joss was sensitive to that. But her daughter needed some kind of space in her father's life, so if that was to be the way, given everything, then so be it.

John hadn't really discussed the situation with Zoe, and after the plan she'd made to have a baby with him didn't quite go the way she'd wanted it to, he wasn't exactly sure how having Alyssa stay with them would sit with her. He knew that Zoe wasn't fond of the idea of his daughter, and better still, of his ties to Joss because of that. And since this marriage he'd gotten himself into wasn't as real in his mind as it could have been in hers, and would be over as soon as he knew all of the relevant threats to her life were gone, he didn't feel it necessary to involve her in that. There would be no bonding with step mommy.

They were turning a corner in that fight, he and the rest of Team Machine. The hitmen that had been sent out after her several weeks prior had been routed and delivered to John's favorite Mexican prison, as NYPD involvement would have complicated matters, and hindered their work considerably. In fact, with the apprehension of those guys who had come so close to harming his own family in that firefight near Joss' place, it had been quiet on the Zoe threat front, save for that flare up which turned out to be the Machine merely retracing her steps just to be sure she hadn't missed any details.

The time would soon come for he and Zoe to part ways. It had to, regardless of what the future held for him and Joss, if anything. He'd be able to tell her why then. And she'd be able to get on with her life, perhaps find the man who would truly make her happy. He'd been able to see the side of her that wasn't in fixer mode, the vulnerable side, and he was sorry he had to be a part of what made her unhappy. At first, it surprised him. But then he knew more than anyone just how much wearing a mask, how much hiding and working through emotions could keep a person alive. How often had he resorted to that himself?

He realized now that he shouldn't have slept with her. It wasn't just about Joss. It was about not hurting Zoe. In his quest to make her safe, he thought it would be best to make their "marriage" be as real to her as possible, at least as much as he could play that role. But he knew then that such an approach had been a mistake. Mustering up memories of the fleeting attraction he'd had to her before he got closer to Joss, he'd given her free reign to believe that she'd won something in getting him, that her cool demeanor, icy beauty and sharp tacks had done the trick. Joss, as a serious contender, hadn't figured into her mind. Until she found out that Joss had had his child. And while he had been able to get her to see his way in things eventually, he knew that he hadn't been able to fully hide his distraction. He wasn't that good an actor. Zoe hadn't been the best at what she did without knowing how to read people. And she'd made it her mission to be able to read him.

Still, she hadn't fully come out and accused him of having an affair. If she believed it so, there was no discussing it. Instead, she attempted to continue to get him to join her in bed. Work in the field was a blessing, as it made it easier not to have to face her and her witty yet obvious pleas for him to fuck her at the end of a long day.

 _Zoey, don't._

 _Don't what, John? I know how much you love getting stroked, at least you did the last time._

 _Stop...stop that. Zoe...no. Look, I just fought off two trained killers and it was a close call throughout the whole ordeal. I'm not exactly up for what you have in mind._

 _Oh, John, well, from where I'm looking, you could have fooled me. Something about your job makes you so hot. The danger, the uncertainty. And yet, somehow, you manage through. Have I told you that before?_

 _Many times. All the same, I'm tired and sore. Need sleep. Good night._

 _Oh? So quickly? That's no fun. Here, how about I give you a back rub? A good wife knows how to take the tension away, as my mother always said._

 _Well, the best way you can do that, Zoe, is if you let your husband rest when he asks. I bet your mother said something about that, too. Did she?_

 _No. Not really. Okay. Good night, John._

 _Good night, Zoe. We'll have dinner or something tomorrow night. I promise._

 _Right. Dinner. Wonderful, John. Just...wonderful._

And so that continued. And it would continue until things were set right. His love belonged to Joss. His passion and need, his body, belonged to her. His day dreams were haunted by the vision of her and her luscious curves. Her full and inviting lips. Her mocha breasts that once gave milk to their daughter. Her moans and pleading as he gave her his own body, gave her his love permeated his ears. Her moist, sexy skin as he moved within her body, fueling his lust, pulling him further into hers was on his body. The feeling he got when he lost control and their souls met and mingled sent blood to every part of him, most especially the most sensitive part. John's mind and heart were flooded with those memories, so much so that he ached in pain from the longing.

But he'd agreed not to touch her again. And as much as it killed him to adhere to celibacy, he would, because he realized she was right. In a different time and place, another John Reese would have balked at spinning two women at the same time, at being that man in some love triangle, with a child in caught in the middle. He would have been married to her mother, living happily, and raising his daughter in a way that was moral and upstanding, with himself as the example to follow.

The way they had been going couldn't have continued. It was just as problematic as his being married to Zoe was.

So, he'd direct his free energies towards quality platonic time. He had his pajamas, sleeping bag and pillow, and he would be camping out on the living room floor this night-not in Joss' bed. He wouldn't venture anywhere near Joss' bedroom unless he had to make his way to the shower. Those were the ground rules: no sex. Not even a thought of sex.

But who was he kidding? It would be the buzz in the room, the quiet hum between them that, if they let their guards down for even just a second, would turn into an explosion faster than either one of them could say 'no.'

However, him being the good and disciplined soldier that he could be, until that last goodbye, he'd do what he could to see Alyssa, Taylor, and Joss as much as possible. He'd cherish whatever time he still had with them in New York. It would be a few months before everything was said and done. A few months was a drop in the pan in the life of a small child. She was already growing so big in front of their eyes.

If there was a future for them, as a family, it was too soon to consider. But the day of reckoning would happen. And he'd do everything in his power to make it happen, to see Zoe completely safe first. Langley, Virginia had much to recommend for it. And he could retain his connections with Finch and the Machine from anywhere.

Finally settling on a Jelly Belle Rainbow teddy bear and a new set of storybooks, John took his purchases to the nearest register. After paying for Alyssa's things, he walked over to the plaza bakery and picked up a half-dozen order of chocolate eclairs before finding the Town Car and heading over to Joss' place.

Having merged into traffic, he tapped his ear piece.

"Finch, I'm on my way to Joss to see my daughter. What's happening?"

His partner's voice sounded through the other end. "I hate to interrupt such an important occasion, Mr. Reese, but I do have information that you might need to pay attention to."

John's eyebrow rose. "Oh? What information is that?"

"It would appear that Mrs. Reese is presently dining at the Cavern, in the company of a gentleman that we've had a run in with before. A former number, in fact."

"Well, was he a victim or a perpetrator? How does he figure in with Zoe? One of her clients?"

"Something like that. Do you recall our dealings with a certain Ian Murphy?"

John's mouth formed a grimmace as he remembered Ian Murphy and his taking liberties with Joss while she assisted them in an undercover operation to bust the Internet lothario. Turned out that he was the victim and not the perp—but he still didn't like the idea of the man kissing Joss. She hadn't had her guard up. At least that's what he told Shaw. Truth was, he couldn't stand the thought of her with anyone but himself. Never mind that he had been in that fleeting flirtation with Zoe at the time.

"Of course, I remember. Our online Romeo. What's she doing with him?" he asked curtly. "And I thought he returned to Boston after we settled that mess with his son and Wellington's manipulations."

"Well, apparently, it sounds to me as if he may be calling on Mrs. Reese for her skills in making sticky situations disappear. Perhaps Wellington is involved, or other members of the family may be staking claims on the child. I'm not completely up to speed on just what's going on, but when I am, I'll be sure to inform you. Just thought you should be aware."

"Thanks, Finch. We'll definitely need to keep an eye on Murphy. Last thing we need is for Zoe to get into any more bad graces. His son's grandfather and his associates, for one. Cut off the head and three more appear in its place."

"Agreed, Mr. Reese. I trust you will have an enjoyable visit with young Alyssa."

"That's the plan, Harold."

"I will leave you to it. Good day, John."

John tapped his ear piece to disconnect. _Ian Murphy? What the hell was that about?_ Did they maintain contact after he'd gotten custody of his son? Was Bruce Wellington up to his old tricks, even from behind bars?

Yes, it was definitely something to keep an eye on. While they'd been able to get to the bottom of Ian's story, Wellington was another matter.

Turning on the next block and driving a few further, he pulled up the car to see Joss and Alyssa standing in the grass, on the small plot of it in front of their duplex. The child's outdoor toys were strewn across it, and John could tell that she had been enjoying herself in the warmth of the day. When Alyssa saw that Daddy was in the car, his sunglasses off, his face lit up in a smile, she began jumping up and down, her little two year old's legs clad in pony boots and jeans, her growing hair loose and flowing over her shoulders.

He had never seen a more beautiful baby. And she was part of him. His heart swelled with pride.

"Dah-dee!" she cried, as she cased the fence, her arms raised for his hug.

"Hi, sweetie!" he returned as he got out of the car. Upon reaching her with his overnight gear and the parcels he'd picked up, he entered the gate, pulled her into his arms and scooped her up, wishing that he never had to let her go.

"Oh, how's my girl, huh? How's Daddy's girl?"

"Ah'm fine, Dah-dee," she answered. "Mahmee, look. Iss Dah-dee!"

"Yes, baby," Joss replied, her eyes warm in the face of him. He was more handsome than she'd ever seen him. He was out of his Man in the Suit gear, his butter soft jeans and black leather jacket striking for him a subdued yet rakish pose, and she fought every instinct she had to sink into his arms as she'd had so many times before.

But no. No, she was still too vulnerable to him. Still too aroused by his love. Alyssa would end up in her playpen—and she'd end up in bed, on her back, naked, crazy, his hands and mouth all over her.

She longed for her man's touch beyond reason-but she'd let him save his kisses for their child.

He knew it too, felt it too, as his own instinct was to walk to her and run his lips soundly across her mouth while holding their baby. John also stood where he'd arrived, not daring himself to get closer.

"Hi," he offered quietly over Alyssa's shoulder.

"Hi, John. It's good to see you."

"Yes. You too. You look...beautiful. Thank you for this. For agreeing to the overnight."

"Well, really, I should thank you. I love our kids, but it'll be good to have some time off. I already have the movie picked out I'm going to see, and there's a popcorn combo with my name on it,' she said with a grin.

"Of course. I'm her father. And I owe you everything for the way you hold it down, Joss. Wonderful mother to our baby. You deserve a night off. God, there's so much you deserve."

She was suddenly flushed with a touch of bashfulness at those last, earnest words. Finding a loose tendril of hair from her bun, she smiled and took a deep breath to settle her nerves, nerves which were only set further on edge because she knew he was watching her.

"Thank you, John. I'll hold you to that."

"Please do. I'd love it," he said quietly, the whisper softness of his voice like a gentle wind. His green eyes were now trained firmly on her brown ones. She could see it so clearly. The desire that he fought against. It was there, naked and plain. Her heart beat in her ears. What was there to do in the face of that?

"Umm, come on in, John. I made some lunch for us. Taylor will be home in a little while, but we can start without him. Alyssa has been missing you. She talks about her daddy all the time."

"I've been missing her, too. And—well, I've been missing..."

John looked down at the ground, then at some other nondescript thing, before returning his full green-eyed gaze towards her. So much to say. So many ways he wanted to say it—and couldn't without breaking the agreement. So, instead, he agreed to lunch. There was no other option.

God, she was so close. So _damned_ close. He could reach for her. Touch her soft skin. Run his fingers lightly over her bare arm, and revel in the shudder and moan she'd respond to him with.

Instead, he refocused. He called upon that Army discipline. At that moment, he needed every shred of it.

"Yes. I am quite hungry, actually. Lunch sounds great. And," he said, returning his attentions to his wiggly daughter, "I hear that this little one has been doing well with eating like a big girl. I'll have to see this! Huh? Is Daddy gonna see Alyssa eat all her food?"

"Yeah, Dah-dee. I eat my foo'."

"Good baby. Good baby girl," he cooed at her. "And Daddy brought you something."

Alyssa remembered the bags. Suddenly, her wiggling took on a frantic air. John had to put her down lest she tumbled out of his arms.

"Wan' see! Wan' see bag!"

Joss laughed, which was the perfect way to break the tension. "Well, honey let's go in and get you washed up for lunch, and then we can see what Daddy brought you, okay? Come on."

John smiled at Joss. He then followed her inside, holding Alyssa's hand and the bags with all the goodies.

They'd find their way. Somehow they would. But until then, grilled cheese sandwiches and small talk would have to do. The rest of it would just have to wait.

 **A/N: So Ian Murphy has found Zoe for something or other, and that could cause trouble. But whatever happens, John is starting to see his own way out of the Zoe Morgan Protection Squad, whatever happens with Joss after she leaves for the FBI. Meanwhile, Taylor may have a word for John about his behavior with his mother, and where he and Alyssa fit into his life, given his connection to Zoe. And how about that Finch, who seems to enjoy rubbing John's face in it, almost as much as Shaw does, haha.**

 **Holiday weekends make for writing time, so I hope this finds you all well. Thank you for reading, and who knows: one of the other stories might get an update, too, before it's all over with. Stay tuned!**


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